Inaugural post

So I've been considering on and off doing a training blog, and finally I've got my beans in a row to do it rather than just think about it.

Thus far this year we've done the following:

A number of Mallorcan mountains in our first trip abroad with the bikes (including Colle de Soller, Randa, Valdemossa and Puig Major);
Bristol 10K road race;
Tour of Bath Sportive 56k;
Westonbirt Sprint Tri;
Smeathe's Ridge 10k trail run:
Great Western Sportive 118km.

This year we've learned that training for your specific event is a Really Good Call. The sprint tri was a case in point; after our first tri last year at Leeds Castle we were much fitter and better prepared this year and it was a great day. We lucked out with the weather and the clouds that threatened throughout only opened as we were driving home. Similarly the weather had been kind to us for all the other events.

That is, until the Great Western, which took place on the hottest day of the year, 32 at its peak. I so wasn't prepared for that. I hadn't cycled for two weeks prior to the event and even the training beforehand had been geared towards the tri, all short sprint distances sub 30k. Don't do this. Sufferance was the order of the day, that and not inconsequential levels of delirium towards the end. Not for the first time, the only thing that got me through it was sheer bloody minded determination. On the plus side I did not sit at the side of the road crying, but it was a close thing.

Bits of it were great! The route took in the stones at Avebury, which I've been wanting to see for ages, and the White Horses. Some killer hills, but we were on it for the first 50 odd K, until the first rest stop. In my head I had divided the ride into three: first, 53k, then a 40k stretch to the second rest stop and finally 25k to the finish. We made the mistake of using a different electrolyte picked up at the first rest stop, which was not good. Don't they always tell you not to do or use anything different on race day? There's a good reason for that.

The 40k stretch was a struggle. I had to let Sid go ahead, for both our sakes, which left me to my own inner resources for the remaining 65k. Just after the rest stop there was a 17% hill. I got half way up and that was it. At least I now know that in extremis,  I can unclip very quickly. On another day I might have managed it, but not that day. The route took us through Lambourn and some sort of valley which, pretty as it was, felt like cycling through an oven. Man it was tough. The hills just kept coming, not that big but big enough. You know it's bad when you just have to break the ride down into 5km portions and then, worse, 1km.

Made it to the second rest stop at 93k, everything ablaze. On the plus side my back was so sore I barely noticed the state of my arse.  The last 25 wasn't quite as bad for a while, except that I really was feeling quite delirious and I could feel my cognitive function and reaction times slipping away. I kept thinking to myself, "and you've toyed with the idea of doing an Ironman, you mad bastard?". It was so bad at times I couldn't even maximise the downhills, for fear of falling off for no good reason. The electrolyte situation wasn't helping as it was causing bad indigestion type symptoms and I knew I had to get off to walk up a final hill as it was quite crippling.

Anyway. We made it. Slowly, but we made it, resolving to never do anything like that without first putting the requisite amount of training in. To top it all off the medal was small and a bit shit.

Which brings me to the next one: Wiggle Cotswold. This time another 118km but with twice the elevation, in two weeks' time. So the focus is very much on the bike, although we have to keep the running going at least to a degree. Swimming is nowhere to be seen for the time being.

Tonight, a nice 50k after work, PR time over that distance, so very pleased with that. I've never done >25kph over 50k before, and tonight's effort was 25.9kph. Onwards and upwards.